


Tease

by grimzie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Love Poems, Poetry, School, Teasing, Tension, harry is sort of controlling, i like making harry messy in my stories, idk why sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimzie/pseuds/grimzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and a girl who I forgot to give a name to have to work together on a poetry assignment but of course Harry is a nymph and has to make it sexual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tease

I was sat at the back of class next to Harry, the boy no one dares talk to. He always has an intimidating scowl on his face, his jaw never less than tense. If you ever try to talk to him he just mumbles something inaudible and doesn't look you in the eye. So you can imagine the gasps I got from the rest of my classmates when I was called on first to choose my partner for our English project and I chose him.

After everyone else picked their partners, we all grouped our desks into two, facing across from each other. When I looked back at Harry from my spot at the front of the room, he had his head hung down, looking in his lap no doubt at his phone. His bum was on the edge of his chair, his shoulders hunched over resting on the back. I slammed my desk up against his loudly, making him look up, momentarily startled.

"Hi!" I said cheerfully with a wide smile. He just sarcastically smirked and went back to looking down, his face either very angry or very concentrated. It was hard to tell the difference.

I sat down and folded my hands atop my desk. I looked at him, waiting for him to sense me staring, but he didn't return my gaze. I stretched my foot out looking for his and when I found it, I kicked him lightly. He still didn't look up. I cleared my throat. Nothing.

"Texting someone?" I pried.

"Playing Temple Run and you're ruining my chances of getting my high score," he murmured.

"Oh." My shoulders slumped.

When I figured he wasn't going to pay any attention to me whatsoever, I reached in my bag and pulled out my notebook and pencil. I flipped to a clean sheet and folded the cover back along with the used pages. I clicked the eraser of my mechanical pencil until a small bit of lead shoved through the tip.

"So," I said to him, writing the date neatly in the top right hand corner of the paper and then looking up. His eyes stayed locked on his phone. I watched as his brow scrunched up even more than it was.

" _So_ ," I said even louder. He didn't look up but grunted in acknowledgement. I sighed and continued speaking. "We have to pick a poem and rewrite it to mean the same thing as the original." He grunted again. I sighed. I wasn't going to let his introverted behavior deter me from finishing our project. I saw him as a challenge, which is why I picked him, so I had to deal with it.

The more I looked at him, waiting for him to talk to me in vain, the more I noticed how attractive he was. His crazy brown locks were swept messily across his forehead, his downward glancing eyes housed beautifully long, jet black eyelashes that fanned over his sun-kissed cheekbones. His pouty pink lips were pursed in concentration. The two necklaces he wore adorned his prominent collarbones that barely jutted out past the top of his long sleeve creme colored shirt. 

I didn't notice the teacher calling my name from the front of the classroom at first, but her annoying high pitched voice managed to break me out of my reverie before Harry noticed that I had been blatantly staring at him.

"Yes, Mrs. Cadbury?" I turned around to face the blackboard where she stood, her hair perfectly quaffed into a high bun, her small glasses sat on the front of her nose which she peered over to look at me condescendingly.

"Have you and Mr. Styles begun your assignment yet?" she hissed.

"Yes, Mrs. Cadbury," I lied.

"What poem have you chosen then?" she sneered, sticking her pointy nose up in the air so she was looking down at me. God, I hated her.

"Uh-" I stuttered, flipping through my memory banks for anything, but I couldn't remember the name of a single poem that I had read in my entire life. I wasn't one of those people that performed well under pressure. "I- well-"

"I Like My Body When It Is With Your Body," Harry muttered from behind me. I, along with the whole class, turned around to see him looking at the teacher, his mouth in a thin, bored line.

"Wh-" I began.

"What an excellent choice, Mr. Styles," Mrs. Cadbury cooed, and I swore I could see the ghost of a smile dance across her lips; something I don't think anyone who has met her has ever seen before. "E.E. Cummings. A classic author. Continue with your work," she nodded. Everyone went back to facing the right way, hushed whispers about Harry floated around the room.

I turned back around in my seat, my mouth slightly open. Harry was staring at me; the intensity of his jade green eyes made me feel uncomfortable, his eyebrows set in their usual sternness. He kept his gaze fixed on me until I closed my mouth and looked away, awkwardly coughing. A few minutes later the bell rang and Mrs. Cadbury dismissed us, reminding us that our projects were due by the end of the week.

I was leaned over the side of my seat, packing away my things neatly when I felt a looming presence standing over me. I looked up to see Harry, all 6 foot 2 inches of him, in jeans skinnier than mine. He wasn't looking at me but he was obviously waiting until I was done to say something.

"Do you want to come over after school?" he spit out too fast and quiet for me to understand. 

"What?"

"Do you want to come over after school so we can work on the assignment?" he asked more clearly, but his eyes didn't leave the floor in front of him.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. 

Only 35 minutes had passed and I had already made a crack in the mysterious wallflower that was Harry Styles. He handed me a small ripped piece of notebook paper which he had messily scribbled his address on and I noticed the size of his hands. I almost gasped out loud, their enormity catching me off guard. You know what they say about big hands. Big hands, big... you know. 

"Th-thanks," I stuttered after he was already walking away. I slipped the paper in my bag and continued to my next class.

____________________________________________________________

I stared at the directions I had printed from the school library as I walked along the sidewalk in front of a row of very nicely built houses. 2218 Baker Street. I stopped in front of a large brick home, a black Range Rover was parked in the driveway. I guess this was it. I flattened out my wavy blonde locks and smoothed my floral skirt before making my way to the large red door. I knocked lightly, but the house was so huge that I figured there was no way someone heard me. After a few seconds I decided to ring the doorbell as well.

Through the frosted oval glass in the center of the door, I could see the outline of Harry shuffling towards me. It seemed like an eternity before he reached the door, swinging it open swiftly. His school attire had been replaced by a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. An olive green beanie sat atop his head, pushing back his chocolate hair. He looked less intimidating this way.

"Hi," I mumbled and raised my hand in a small wave. I felt weak under his daunting emerald stare.

"Hey." _Why hadn't I noticed the sexy rasp in his voice earlier?_ We stood there awkwardly until Harry invited me in. 

I walked behind him as he led me to his room. I asked why we couldn't work in the living room or somewhere that, well, wasn't his bedroom, but he didn't answer me, he just kept walking. His hips swung in a mesmerising way and I couldn't help but stare. I was kicking myself mentally for choosing him for this stupid project. I could tell this wasn't going to be what I signed up for.

We finally traipsed through the entirety of his lavish house into his bedroom in the very back. Clothes, CDs, and papers were strewn all over his floor and bed. There were some dirty cups and plates precariously placed atop his desktop computer and television. My nose turned up at the faint smell of dirty laundry as I tried to clear a place on his bed to sit.

"So," I said, perched on the very edge with my bag in my lap. "I read the poem that you brought upon yourself to use for our project. It's a little..."

"Sexual?" he finished, unembarrassed.

"Uh, yeah," I blushed and looked away from him.

"I know." He leaned back in his black leather computer chair the way he had in class, but more relaxed. His boldness about the topic made my cheeks flush.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with that." He just shrugged in response.

It was like the tables had turned all of a sudden. In school I felt confident being the one to talk to the boy everyone feared while he just sat there, shy and introverted. Now here I was, on his bed with the topic of a sexual poem we had to discuss floating around in the air and I couldn't feel more timid and flustered. 

"Well, I'm not one to argue," I sat up straight and flipped my hair off of my shoulder, trying to mask my insecurity. "But, this is a two person project and I don't want to do your poem." I held my head high and closed my eyes. I felt snobby but I had to overcompensate for his brooding demeanor. Harry didn't reply to me, so I slowly peeked at him out of the corner of my eye.

"Here." He was handing me a sheet of white paper, which I warily took from him.

I scanned over the print quickly, my eyes darted to and fro before I realised it was the poem.

"I told you I've already read it." I handed it back to him. He made no motion to take it back and instead just crossed his arms, so I rested it on the pile of shirts next to me. He reached over, picked it up, and put it back in my lap.

"Read it to me."

"Wh-what? I'm not doing that." I shook my head.

"Read it," he demanded forcefully. My eyes widened at his assertiveness. I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out so I closed it in defeat and picked up the paper.

"I like my body when it is with your body," I began, my voice and hands beginning to nervously shake. "It is so quite a new thing. Muscles better and nerves more." I stopped and sighed. "This poem is silly." I could feel the blood rush to my face, heating up my skin.

"Keep reading."

I rested my bag on the floor as I cleared my throat and reluctantly started again, interchanging my glance between the paper and Harry. 

"I like your body. I like what it does. I like its..." I paused as I watched Harry clear off a spot on his bed next to me. His biceps peeked out from under his rolled up sleeves, the muscles moving every time he picked something up. He sat down, his cotton covered leg touching my semi-bare one. "...its hows. I like to feel the spine of your body..." He rested his hand on the small of my back. "...and its bones and the trembling..." He ran his fingers up and down my spine and I felt my heartbeat accelerate and my breath hitch in my throat making me gasp. He looked at me, a hint of mischief sparkled in his eyes. 

"Keep going," he nodded, looking down at my lap where my shaky hands tightly gripped the paper, making it wrinkle along the edges. He tucked the hair that was hanging in my face behind my ear.

"...the trembling firm smoothness and which I will again and again and again... kiss," I barely breathed out the last word as Harry slowly leaned over towards me and pressed his plump pink lips against my neck just below my ear. His hand slid off my back and rested on the bed behind us.

My hands fell into my lap as the overwhelming feeling flooded my senses. My eyes fluttered shut as his hot tongue traced damp circles along my jaw, each replaced with a soft kiss. He withdrew for a moment, the loss of contact left me yearning for more of his wanton affection. His hand came to rest on my leg, the vastness of his palm covered my entire knee. His hot breath wafted against my ear, his lips grazing the skin.

"Did I say you could stop?" he whispered. Goosebumps arose all over my body at his words. 

"I- I- uh, I," I stammered, keeping my gaze downward. 

This really wasn't how I expected the day to go. Harry was nothing like he let on at school; antisocial and mean. I would have never dreamed in a million years that I would be sitting on his bed, being seduced by him. I thought I would come over, get a couple useful sentences out of him, and we'd be done. If only. 

"I like-" I managed to sputter out, my voice jittery as he continued his merciless conquest upon my neck. "I like kissing this and that of you."

"Mm, so do I," he groaned. A shiver racked through my entire body and I could feel a damp spot form in between my legs. 

"I like slowly... um, _stroking_ the shocking fuzz of your electric fur," I whispered. It was becoming harder and harder to concentrate on reading but I pushed through it. I fidgeted nervously, swinging my legs back and forth, crossing and uncrossing them, all whilst his hand traveled from my knee upwards. His fingertips massaged my skin along the way and rested underneath the hem of my skirt. 

Gently, he sucked on the skin above my collarbone, forcing a slight whimper to escape my mouth. His tongue smoothed over the tender area, soothing the ache. He nudged me with his nose, which I assumed was his way of urging me to continue reading.

"And what is it comes over-" I stopped abruptly when I saw the next words. So far, the poem had reflected his actions, and I knew what the next step would be when I read them aloud. He stopped and lifted his head, his gaze burning into me, but I wouldn't turn to look at him. His fingertips dug into my inner thigh.

"And what is it comes over..." he repeated, enticing me to finish the sentence. He put his fingers under my chin forcing me to look at him as he looked from my lips to my eyes and back. He moved closer to me, his hot breath fanned against my face; it smelled like spearmint. 

I was fixated on his eyes which were now a darker shade of green than before. His lips were touching mine but just barely. It had become suddenly clear to me that I wanted him, right then and there in his huge house, on his messy bed. I didn't care. 

I leaned into him but he entangled his left hand into the hairs at the base of my neck and tugged me away slightly. My eyes widened a little as he smirked at me.

"Finish."

I tried to move my head to look at the paper but Harry's grip was firm, pulling me back when I did so. 

"You already know the words," he murmured. "Just say them."

"P-parting flesh." 

He let go of my hair, tugging a little when he reached the ends. One side of his mouth curled up and a deep dimple appeared on his cheek. I could tell he knew how to get what he wanted.

"Good girl," he whispered before he closed the small space between us, locking his lips to mine. He was soft at first but his lips became fervent, his tongue expertly darting in and out of my mouth, dancing with mine. 

What was happening? I didn't see this coming at all. I was supposed to be the one in charge here and Harry had just single-handedly seduced me in a matter of minutes and I was letting him. 

He broke away from me for a moment, leaving me yearning for his lips back on mine. Clothes were thrown from the bed to the floor and a light blue duvet appeared. Surprisingly, his bed was made underneath the mess, as if he never slept in it, but just used it for a laundry bin.

"Lay down."

"Harry, we should finish the assi-"

"Lay down," he repeated sternly.

My eyes didn't leave his as I shifted back onto the bed, resting my head on his soft pillow. He climbed over me, one knee on each side of my thighs. His beanie kept his curls from falling around his face as he hovered over me, a dangerous but enticing look in his eye. He leaned down, grazing my ear with his lips.

"And possibly I like the thrill," his deep, sensuous voice rasped as he nipped my earlobe with his teeth. The warmth of his breath sent chills all the way down to my feet. His hand slipped just under the hem of my shirt, resting on my hip. "Of under me," he whispered and kissed below the dip below my ear. " _You_."

Harry picked his head up and his lips hovered over mine as my eyes fluttered shut. I noticed how shallow my breathing had become and when he didn't kiss me, I forced my eyes open and frowned. The right side of his mouth kinked up into a smirk and he laughed through his nose before clambering off of me and back into his chair.

My face felt like it was on fire and I sat up confused as I watched him bend down and grab a notebook and pen from his bag, scribbling something down. I opened my mouth to say something but I didn't really know what to say. My head was kind of fuzzy. Why had he just stopped like that? Did my breath smell? I cupped my hand and inconspicuously huffed and sniffed but it wasn't that.

"What just happened?" I asked, my confidence from earlier making a small appearance again.

He continued writing, trying not to smirk. "We read the poem." He looked up at me. "And now we have to rewrite it. That's the assignment isn't it?"

That mischievous twinkle in his green eyes was enough to anger a saint. He can't just get me all worked up like that and act like nothing had happened.

"So you're a tease," I huffed, crossing my arms.

"Maybe," he grinned. "You make it _so_ easy though." His voice was practically a purr.

I groaned. "Let's just finish the assignment."

"Already done," he smirked, flicking his wrist so that the notebook spun a few times in mid air before landing on my lap. His handwriting was atrocious, border-lining on chicken scratch. The only neat letters he made were his Y's which formed a loop at the bottom, much like a girl's would.

I began reading it in my head when I was interrupted by Harry telling me to read it out loud. I rolled my eyes, tired of being told what to do for the day.

_Without you next to me, I feel vulnerable_  
When I am with you, I am multiplied  
My body feels more, reacts more.  
Your body melts under my touch, arching, stiffening  
Your skin is soft, your bones prominent  
I want to feel every part of you  
Kiss every inch of your porcelain flesh.  
Your lips skim mine, your blue eyes are wide and I am changed.  
I've not felt the feeling of your body breathing underneath of mine before  
It's a new experience   
One which I want to feel again and again. 

I put the notebook down with a huff, my mouth slightly open. Harry was so much more than he seemed. He was a poet and a tease. Two things I had learned in the expanse of an hour.

"Huh."

"Do you like it?" he asked and I could sense the hint of self-consciousness in his voice.

"No," I shook my head, handing him the book which he took wearily, a hint of disappointment crossing his features. "I love it," I smiled. His green eyes squinted at me and his jaw tensed. "What?" I asked. "You're not the only one that can be a tease."

That last sentence earned me a small growl before Harry tossed the notebook from his hands onto the clothes covered floor and crawled back on top of me. His eyes sparkled and I could tell he liked that I was playing with him. He pinned my hands to down beside my head and I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to. He bit his lip as his eyes scanned my face.

"You shouldn't have said that."

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought!  
> http://grimzie.tumblr.com


End file.
